


Wonderful Unknown

by lizook12



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 12,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short fics written in response to meme prompts on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing the wonderful **spyglass** getting her tumblr fic collection started inspired me to do the same. Collection titled after the Ingrid Michaelson song of the same name. 
> 
> This first prompt is from **itsalwaysfour** : _"(306):come home. I need you. I'm too hungover to deal with this hangover alone "_

Her head is pounding.

Feels like there’s a tiny drummer playing bongos against the back of her skull.

Stupid engagement party.

Stupid Thea pressing that second bottle of wine into her hand.

Not to mention her fiancé, who’d insisted on champagne when they got home.

And now he’s not here. 

_Early board meeting; shouldn’t be too long_.

His lips on her shoulder as he slid out of bed, fingers smoothing her hair as he set a glass of water on the night stand.

Still, it’s too much.

She needs the blinds closed and the knot in her back gone, but it’s too much effort to move and—

“‘Licity?” It’s soft, a whisper as he gently closes the door, pads down the hall. “Ahhh, right where I left you.”

"Mmm." Sighing, she squints at him, carefully arches a brow at the white bag he’s clutching. "You stopped—"

"And got you those cheese croissants you love." He lowers himself to the mattress, runs his hand over the curve of her hip. "And some extra Tylenol, just in case."

"Thank you." She sighs, blinks up at the ceiling. "Thank you for taking care of me and coming home and… and no tequila shots at the wedding, ok?"

He laughs, leans down and brushes a kiss over her lips. “I’ll always come home to you. Always.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by **amandaec** : _(425): So apparently I initiate sex in my sleep._

"…don’t wake me at four am again tonight."

He puts down his bow, lets his hood fall back as he leans against her desk.

"I don’t remember you complaining then."

"I’m not complaining now…" Ducking his head, he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, grins. "It just made for a long day and my knee…"

"That wasn’t my fault."

"No?"

"No…" She rocks back in her chair, smirks up at him. "All I remember is waking up with my leg over your hip and my hands under your shirt, you’re the one—"

"That let you have your way with me?"

"Well, yeah." Laughing, she glides her chair to the left, rests against his leg. "I believe your exact words were ‘ _Lean back and ride—’”_

"Do. Not. Finish that sentence." Digg’s voice echoes through the room and Oliver chuckles as Felicity’s mouth forms into a perfect O, eyes going wide.

"What?" Pushing away from the desk, she stands, settles next to Oliver as he laces their fingers together, his thumb brushing up her palm, over the base of her rings. "Apparently I initiate sex in my sleep…"

Digg just shakes his head, starts making his way out, the words _'thought…better when they were married…'_ echoing as he closes the door and Felicity climbs up on the table, knees bracketing Oliver as she rocks forward.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the many from **effie214** : _(401) The whole bar erupted in happiness and confusion as I went on about pancakes._

"It’s just like this little pillow of heaven. All cake-y and wonderful and…"

"How much has she had to drink?" Sara crosses her arms over her chest, leans back on her bar stool as Nyssa nods beside her.

"Nothing actually; I have a conference call with Chicago in the morning and I don’t want to risk having a headache. Hock gives me one as it is." Felicity answers before Oliver can, his hand low on her hip. "Seriously though, if he wasn’t running a billion dollar corporation or…" She lets it go unsaid; they all know about his hooded activities. "He could have a whole chain of pancake restaurants."

"Those already exist." He presses a kiss to her jaw, steals a fry from her plate.

"Yeah, but, no, not like yours. Those are inferior, by far." Gesturing with the salt shaker, she swivels on her seat. "Seriously, it’s just the right consistency. Not too flat or dense, but not full of air and… Did you ever realize that pancakes are called pancakes because they’re little _cakes_ made in a _pan_?”

A man at the other end of the bar snorts until Nyssa shoots him a look and then he’s out of his seat so fast he almost trips over his own feet.

"Are you saying that, instead of a birthday cake tomorrow, you just want Oliver to make you pancakes?" Sara slams back another shot, raises an eyebrow at her friend.

"Yes." She turns back to her husband, smiles slowly. "You could say it’s a craving."   
  
(There’s shouts and hollers as Sara realizes what it means and then she’s clapping Oliver on the back, laughing as Nyssa wonders what the proper toasting beverage for a pregnancy announcement is.

Other bar regulars join in and somewhere in the midst of it two glasses of cider are poured and lifted, Oliver’s arm tight around her waist as she leans against him.

"Happy birthday, ‘Licity; can’t wait til next year when me and the little one can bring you breakfast in bed.")


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another from **effie214** : _(774) I just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled "dibs!"_

Stomping up the driveway, she pushes through the front door, tosses her coat in the hall closet before following the sound of clashing voices, loud music, at the back of the house.

Late to her own engagement party.

She shakes her head, turns into the dining room, where she knows the bar has been set up.

A quick scan tells her, he’s not in the room, but she presses her hip against the bar anyhow, waits for Marco to hand her a glass of wine.

It’s not that the meeting with her department wasn’t important, it was just… She’d never expected Rand’s report to take a half hour.

Swallowing a sip of Syrah, she starts to make her way through the room, always hopeful to spot a flash of that grey suit he’d had on this morning, the strong line of this shoulders.

She’s stopped every five minutes though, someone grabbing her elbow to ask about wedding plans or offer congratulations.

Wonder where her fiancé is.

_Maybe if they let her breathe for half a second she’d be able to find him._

Somehow she escapes a tedious discussion of “rice versus birdseed” with Mrs. Jacobson and ducks out of the room, quickly making her way into the den.

A cheer goes up as she enters, a loud ‘ _DIBS!’_ shouted over the roar.

Her grasp relaxes on the stem of her glass as she spots him, sleeves rolled up, top two buttons undone, tumbler of whiskey in hand.

His smile grows as their gazes meet and then he’s elbowing past Roy, nodding over her shoulder at Digg as he sets both their glasses on the nearest table and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. His chin nuzzles against the curve of her neck and he sighs, smiling against her. “Dibs for the rest of my life.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From anon: _(617):We just broke my bed mid-sex, laughed, then continued. If that isn't true love I don't know what is._

"Oh. Ohhhh…." She moans, leg tightening around him as he cups her breast, moves against her.

His thumb strokes over her nipple, once, twice, three times, and then his hand is skimming up her arm, lifting it over her head and wrapping her fingers around the underside of the headboard.

Fingers splaying over hers, he sucks at her jaw, trails kisses down the column of her throat.

"So beautiful… sexy… warm…" He groans as she matches his rhythm, heel digging into the small of his back, urging him deeper.

His toes flex against the mattress, teeth pressing into her shoulder as he thrusts harder and they’re falling.

Literally.

The bed frame sways, their joined hands slipping down the rung of the headboard as it gives way and they land with a crash.

There’s a moment of stunned silence and then they’re both laughing, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed.

It goes on a good three minutes, breaths mingling, amusement and wonder and love shared.

Moaning, she curls her free hand over the nape of his neck, arches her back as his mouth teases the corner of her lips. “Told you… needed… new bed…”

He grins against her, breath hitching high in his chest as she clenches around him and he starts to move once more.. “Mmm, fucking love you…” Cupping the back of her head, he kisses her roughly, tongues curling together, echoing the tempo they’re creating. “Think we need… test my recliner… next…”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From **effie214** : _team arrow ladies brotp of sass and excellence; (510) he said he didn't have a condom. (415) and you said? (510) that's fine 'cause I'm ready to be a mom. Yeah, he magically had a condom he forgot about after that._

”…really enjoyed the edible underwear I wore for his birthday.”

"Things I didn’t need to know for $1000, Alex." Thea tips her glass back as the blond next to her flushes and snorts into her martini.

"Sorry." She mouths it mostly as Sara laughs from her seat.

"No, she’s not." 

"I really—"

Thea waves her off, shakes some salt on her napkin as their other drinking partner leans close, plucks some ice from the pitcher in the middle of the table.

"Nyssa and I have been experimenting with temperatures lately…" She blows out a breath, the ice melting over her wrist as she rubs it back and forth slowly. "First, it was the ice—which, god, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her put my hand between her legs faster than when I pressed my cold mouth to her breast—and then there was the wax."

"Candle wax?" Felicity lifts an eyebrow as Thea finishes her margarita.

"Yes, on my stomach and…" She shudders, taps her fingers on the table. "It was really nice."

"How depressing that the most exciting story I can add to this conversation is about how Roy claimed he didn’t have a condom last month."

"Oh?"

Both other women ask it in unison causing a fit of giggles before they can press on, scooting their chairs so they’re all on the same side of the table.

"So…"

"What’d you say to him?"

"That it was fine because I’m ready to be a mom. He, uh… he magically found one after that."

Felicity cheers, drink sloshing all over her hand as Sara throws her arms in the air, pulling the youngest girl into a celebratory hug between them.

"You know there are some inventive ways to get around that though…" Felicity smooths her hair, settles back in her chair. "One time Oliver laid me back on our bookcase and went down—"

"Not enough alcohol in the world, Lis."

"Just ask Sara to make you a Long Island Iced Tea." She stops, brow furrowing as she finishes her drink. "On second thought, don’t. It actually took _me_ over twenty-four hours to track down all the video and photos from karaoke night.”

"Somehow it turned into luau around two a.m." Sara slides a new drink to Thea, glances at her phone quickly.

"Mmm, Oliver _was_ happy to get the lei when I got home at four…”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last from **effie214** : _(443) I'm a gentleman, chivalry is what I do. I'll open the door, pull out your chair, I'll even go down first, but when it comes to Mario Kart, I draw the line. I'm sorry, but I just can't let you best me at Mario Kart._

“Yes, there… little faster…” She sighs, leans forward.

Groaning, he clenches his jaw, drives ahead. “So close…”

“No, no, no!” Her leg twitches, hands jerk forward. “That’s cheating!”

“All’s fair in love and Mario Kart.” He scoots closer to her on the couch, thigh pressing to hers as she avoids a second banana peel and he wins the heat. “Face it, Felicity, one more track and you’re mine.”

“Already am.”

She says it so matter-of-factly that it steals his breath, warms and buoys him all at once.

He’s leaning in to kiss her, mouth curving into a wide smile as the next race starts and she rockets ahead of him.

“Hey, not fair!” Swiveling back to the screen, he punches at the controller as she laughs beside him, her shoulder pushing against his as she leans into a turn. “You know, you just have to guide the remote, not—” 

“Who taught you this game, again?” She moves away, taking another corner on the zippy little bike her character is using. “Besides, this is more fun.”

“Yes, it is…” Turning, he ducks his head, covers her mouth with his as she pushes her back against the arm of the couch. “Hmm, three out of five tournaments?” His hands curl in her waist as he shifts, her knee pressing to his side. “Winner gets a massage and… _whatever_ _else_ … they want…”

“Bring it, Queen.” She sucks his lower lip between hers and then nudges his shoulder, pushing him back to his side of the couch as she sits up, quickly selecting the next group of courses. “Oh, Rainbow Road _and_ Moonview Highway, you’re mine.”

Grinning, he brushes a kiss over her temple before focusing on the game once more. “I know.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another from **itsalwaysfour** : _(613):Going to the ER, I'll explain later but apparently drunk me isn't allergic to peanut butter._

“And that was the first of many all-nighters…”  She loops her arm through is as the stroll through campus, his body warming hers against the cool afternoon breeze.

“Hmm, do any of these stories involve anything other than you slumped over a giant stack of books?”

She pushes her glasses up, turns so they cross under the ‘ _Welcome to Alumni Weekend_ ’ banner. “Oh, yeah. Eighties night, Disney movie drinking game—a drink for every song was a _really_ bad idea, the snowstorm that started with me sledding down that hill on a cafeteria tray and ended up with me in the ER.”  

His hand spasms on her shoulder. “The ER?”  

“Apparently drunk me isn’t allergic to peanut butter.” She shakes her head, smiling softly. “Though I maintain to this day that it was Jenna’s fault. She was the one who insisted on getting a keg. Never mind that the only place to put it was the shower or that—”

“You were so drunk you forgot you’re allergic?” Exhaling roughly, he presses his eyes closed, grits his teeth.

“I wasn’t that drunk even, I just…” She gestures with her hand, as if to say, “Even MIT students make stupid mistakes sometimes”.

“You just?” His fingers drift down her side, tap against her hip.

“I got really hungry! One minute I was schooling everyone at cards, sipping my beer, and the next I thought a sandwich would be the _perfect_ …”

The sentence dies as she realizes how stiff he is beside her, his shoulders tense, eyes narrow, hands…

Hands drifting everywhere.

He’s always been pretty tactile with her, especially since they’ve been together, but this is like he’s checking over every cell of her.

Anchoring her to him.

“Hey, I’m…” She inhales slowly, overwhelmed by the moment, by this man.

“I know, it’s still scary to think about, to know…”

“Yeah.”

She knows it a little too well. Has had nightmares of what he went through on that island only to wake and find him wrapped around her, hand high on her thigh.

“Listen, Jenna really took care of me though, even made a decent excuse to my prof about why I missed class the next day, and…” Lacing her fingers through his, she pulls him to a nearby bench, body resting against his as they sit. “This is why we’re skipping the mixer tonight. I’d rather not need you to use that Epipen I know you have tucked away.” She angles her body towards him, grinning as the tension fades from his jaw, his eyes light up, his hand tunneling through her hair. “Besides, I’ve always wanted to sneak behind the shelves in the library…”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From anon: _(928):Maybe we should try and tone it down a notch. The neighbors changed the name of their wifi network to "i can hear you having sex"_

"Hey…" He sets a cup of coffee in front of her on the table, shuts the screen door behind him.

"Morning." She closes her laptop, slides her plate over as he steals a slice of toast and settles in the deck chair next to her. "There are some more eggs if—"

"No, this is great." Sipping his coffee, he rubs his hand over his bare chest. "Thanks."

"No problem; don’t think I’m letting you out of the pancakes I was promised though."

"Breakfast for dinner?"

"Well, we don’t have anywhere to be tonight."

"Thank god." He grabs another slice of toast, grins as she sweeps her hair back into a loose ponytail. "I know the QC Foundations for Violent Crime Victims is important, but two events in three days is a little much."

"Talk to Thea."

"Oh, I will." Pushing the empty plate away, he leans back in his seat. "I think my shoulders have permanent suspender marks."

"That’s not from the benefit." She winks. "You would think by now you’d be immune to me piling my hair up like that for an event…"

"Hmm." He takes another drink, lets his eyes rake over her slowly, from her slightly askew glasses to the PJ strap slipping down her shoulder to her softly curling hair. "I think I see a bobby pin I missed."

Standing, he leans over the back of her chair, winds her ponytail around his hand as he rasps kisses over her throat, strokes his tongue across her shoulder.

She gasps, relaxes back into his embrace, head tipping to the side to give him better access.

"Mmm, you’re… delicious…" He slips his fingers under the errant strap of her top, jaw rough on her skin as—

"Ohhh, that’s… oh…" Moaning, she reaches out, flexes her hand on the back of his neck. "We should… might…"

"Hmm?" His chest rumbles against her back, breath blows over _that_ spot behind her ear.

"We might need to be a little quieter… Neighbor’s wifi is currently ‘I can hear…’" She sighs, blinks against the morning sun and the warmth of him. “‘Hear you having sex.’"

"Oh, really?" His hands leave her and then he’s pulling her chair away from the table, smirking as he easily lifts her. His knee crashes into the grill when he turns and he groan against her lips, smiles as her nails press into his back, as he carries her to the porch swing. "They haven’t heard anything yet…"


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **nikkicienna** 's first prompt: _(334):God, i just love slightly insecure guys with hearts of gold and giant penises._

Juggling her purse, his anniversary present, and her umbrella, she pushes into their apartment, hooks her keys on the peg next to his. Her Sagittarius keychain clangs against the misplaced F keyboard key he uses as his and she grins, starts to head for the living room.

And immediately stops.

"Oh, Oliver."

It’s a whisper against the soft music floating through the space.

As if the multiple bouquets delivered to her office weren’t enough of anniversary gift, he’s gone all out here, too.

Two bottles of wine sit out near the dining room table, candles flicker from the shelves and counters, a playlist of their favorite songs drifting out of the stereo.

Her partner—part-time employer, lover, best friend—is asleep on the couch, arm hanging over the side, knees tucked up close to his chin.

Sighing, she lifts his legs, settles on the couch before draping her body over his, pressing them together from head to toe.

Rocking her hips forward, she trails kisses up his chest, over his shoulder, across his jaw.

Her lips are just pressing to the corner of his mouth when he wakes and she smiles as his arms immediately wrap around her, his hand smooths up her back and then follows the line of her spine back down again.

"Shit, I can’t believe I fell asleep; I was supposed to be waiting for you with wine when you—"

"It’s fine."

"No, it’s not." He pushes the bottom of her shirt up, rubs his thumb across the small of her back. "You took a chance on me— _on us—_ and you deserve to know just how much this past year—”

"You’re an idiot. _This_ …” She flicks open the button on his pants, leans into him. “This is the celebration I need.”

Her mouth catches his again and it’s everything.

Trust. Need. Adoration.

Love.

His hands flex on her back, pulling her closer as her knees bracket his and her teeth tug at his lower lip. He groans as her tongue soothes the marks she’s just made, her fingers tapping over the nape of his neck and—

Their foreheads almost collide as he sits up.

"Wait, dinner!"

Laughing, she flattens her palm against his shoulder, pushes him back against the arm of the couch. “I want dessert first.”

"I guess I can handle that." Kicking his legs out, he tightens his arms around her, lifting her as he stands. He presses a kiss to the inside of her wrist, draws an O over her skin, and grabs one of the wine bottles. "Let me show you how much I love you."

"I think I have an idea." She shifts slightly, cupping him through his pants as she grins down at him. "Love you, too."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the other from **nikkicienna** : _(450):I’m customer of the month for a 3rd time now at the Wine store. I’ve achieved so much in my life._

"Hey…" He shrugs out of his coat, sets the bag of wine on the table.

"Only three bottles? You’re severely limiting my choices, Mr. Queen." 

"Well, Miss Smoak, I did get your favorite red Zinfandel so…"

Grinning, she tosses his discarded coat over the back of the nearest chair, shuts the door of her condo, though…

Slowly it’s becoming _theirs_ —his boots next to her galoshes in the hall closet, her penguin blanket balled on the top of the plaid shirt he wears when it gets cold, his Wheaties next to her Fruity Pebbles—and she loves it.

Loves the way they blend into each other’s lives.

How they’ve quickly adopted little rituals: dinner no matter what time they’re done with work, Saturday road trips, and nights on the balcony, sharing a bottle of wine.

"…cheating putting your pjs on without me." His hand cups the base of her neck, thumb stroking down over her shoulder.

"I wasn’t about to sit around in muddy clothes; who knew how long you’d be at the station."

"Fair enough, but…" He snags the bottle of Zin, heads for their room, eyebrow lifting as he glances over his shoulder at her. "Next time I’m helping with clean-up."

"Good, you can be on laundry duty."

"Not exactly what I had in mind." Tucking the bottle against his chest, he pulls on his sleep pants, grins as she leans against the door jamb. "Though I wasn’t planning on being the customer of the month at the wine store either."

"Again?" She lifts their glasses and the corkscrew from where they wait on the dresser, follows him onto the balcony.

"Third month in a row. Forget the superhero stuff, this is my crowning achievement."

Laughing, she uncorks the wine, leans against him as she settles in the gliding Digg bought her for her housewarming.

"A toast then…" She hands him a glass, splays her fingers over his side as she snuggles closer. "To the hero I see every day, in a mask or not."

"And to mine."

He clinks their glasses together, takes a long drink, and then covers her mouth with his, hand curling against her hip.

(The wine sits forgotten for a long time after that.)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last for now. Anon: _(713):she gave me a handjob in the middle of the night and my stomach growled so she walked out totally naked and came back 5 minutes later with two sandwiches. who the fuck says getting married is awful?_

Tying the sash of her robe, she pads into their room, shakes her head seeing he’s still wide awake, foot bouncing against the mattress even though it’s going on three-thirty.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Yeah…” He shrugs, rubs his hand over the back of his head. “Too keyed up.”

And she knows just what that means.

Not only because she was there, but because she’s been there all those other times, before they ever got together.

Before her rings ever slid into place.

“…fucking hard to watch that asshole hit on you when I was standing right there, too.”  
  
She knows this, too.

Had felt the tension vibrating off him as their target encroached on her personal space.

Settling on the edge of the mattress, she bites her lip, lets her fingers drift over the soft cotton of his sleep pants. “Thank you for letting me do my part.”

“Always.”

His hand wraps around her wrist and then he’s tugging her forward, kissing her lightly.

It only lasts a second before she’s leaning down, deepening the kiss, fingers twisting around his before skimming up the inside of his arm, wrapping around his bicep.

“How about…” She steps away, gaze raking over him hungrily. “I make you forget about everything but this bed and my name.”

“Oh, fuck… Felicity…” His jaw tenses, shoulders lift, as she strips him of his pants and boxers.

“That is…” Straddling him, she laughs as he tugs the tie of her robe loose causing the silky material to pool around her waist. “The goal.”  

Her palms settle on his chest and she rocks against him, grinning as his hands fist in the sheets, flex on the outside of her thigh.

Ducking her head, she smiles against him as he groans, hips lifting off the bed.

“Hmm, feel good?” She rolls off him, settling next to him on the bed, their bodies pressed together from hip to toe.

“So damn good…” He drags his thumb down her spine, strokes it teasingly over the curve of her ass as he blows out a ragged breath. “Always so… perfect…”

“Good, because…” She hooks one leg between his, her fingers splaying low over his abdomen as her lips brush over his chest, tease his nipple. “Touching you like this…” Her hand closes around him, tongue gliding over his collarbone, across his jaw in time with the tempo she’s stroking from base to tip of him, over and over. “Knowing _I_ get to make you lose control… that’s pretty fucking good…”

“Yeah?” He grunts, the rest of the question getting lost in the heat flaring over the nape of his neck, tightening low in his back.

“Yeah.”

Her hand stills a moment as their eyes meet and she knows he knows what she means.

That _any time_ they’re together is so goddamn amazing.

That there’s a whole other layer of heat when you’re watching the one you love fly apart because of how you make them feel.

How you connect.

Lifting an eyebrow, she begins to move her hand once more, pumping him harder as his fingers twist in her hair, their gazes never wavering. His leg twitches beneath hers and she sucks at his shoulder, sighs into his skin as she drives him higher and higher and—

He comes, chanting her name, head flying back against the pillow as his orgasm rocks him.

She’s still moving slightly against him, lips pressed to his skin when his stomach rumbles and he groans, pressing the back of his hand to his eyes.

Grinning, she dances her fingers over his ribs, kisses the corner of his mouth, and pushes off the bed.

He lowers his hand in time to watch her go, long legs, naked back, that smattering of freckles between her shoulder blades, taunting him as she disappears down the hall.

She’s not gone long at all, enough time for him to come up with a number of ways he’d like to make _her_ scream tonight, but still, not long and when he sees why he just laughs.

God, he loves this woman.

He tells her so as she settles on the bed, handing him a sandwich, an almost empty jam jar balanced between them as she bites into her own.

“Love you, too.” She licks a smear of cream cheese from her lower lip, eats another piece as his arm wraps around her waist, pulling her close.

They eat in silence, relaxed, warmed, for the next few minutes, the only sound a contented sigh, the whisper of a laugh.

He basically only has the crust of his sandwich left when he lifts the plate from her hands, tosses it on the floor as he turns and presses her into the mattress. “This is delicious, but I think I have a better way to finish the raspberry jam…”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt: Arrow season 2, episode 14, Felicity and her blue bra.

He keeps his back turned the whole time even though his skin itches to help, hands yearn to soothe.

And yet he still knows.

Because minutes later when he reassures her of her importance, of how integral she is to what they do (the _to who he is_ realization doesn’t hit until he’s unable to sleep hours later) his shirt gapes open just enough and he sees it.

Can’t help it, though he quickly forces himself to look away.

That bright blue against her creamy skin is tattooed on his brain for weeks.

Months.

Just when he thinks he’s forgotten—after they’ve been through hell and back and the strength of her is solidified as the one thing he absolutely _needs_ —it keeps happening.

Suddenly her tops can’t seem to stay on her shoulders.

Or her hair gets tangled in her earrings and, as she’s untwisting it, the neckline of her blouse shifts just enough for him to catch a glance.

Lavender.

Soft pink.

That blue.

They’re still settling into the new lair and she’s reaching to adjust her monitors just a bit.

( _"The glare from the moonlight last night was a little intense and I thought maybe if I turned this monitor and moved my chair to the left it might account for the different phases. Plus, I’ll have the advantage of having a view for a change. Not that I don’t miss the old lair, but—"_ )

Her shoes are kicked off, feet flat on her desk chair as she studies the angles and then steps back.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she bites her lip, nods considering any possible disadvantages to this set up as she lifts her arm to pull her hair free.

Her tee lifts with the movement and he’s sure he would have dropped the bow he’s carrying if his foot hadn’t caught the edge of the filing cabinet Digg insisted upon.

As it is, he flatten his palm against the wall to steady himself, inhales sharply as she turns towards him, gaze focused on him with a knowing look.

"Yes, this should work." She steps forward, grabbing her gym bag from the end of the desk before halting inches in front of him. "Also good to know that Thursday’s underwear is your favorite."

Her mouth turns up just a touch more, arm brushing against his as she pushes past and he groans, fingers twitching to reach out. To haul her back to him.

Instead he smirks when she pauses near the door to the bathroom and glances back over her shoulder at him, her eyes dancing in the low light of the early evening, and it hits him.

They’re doing this.

Maybe not this second, but they’re both in it.

Have been for a long time.

Loosening his grip on his bow, he rubs one hand across his neck, his mouth curving up uncontrollably.

”What can I say? I always thought green was my favorite color; turns out it’s actually blue.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From anon: _learning what the other person likes sexually_

A beam of light streaks across his face, practically blinds him.

He blinks, he lets his hand drift down her bare back as his other arm reaches out to check the alarm clock…

And only finds air.

Shifting slightly, he smiles as it comes rushing back.

How they’d been curled up on the couch watching _Ocean’s Eleven_ and, not even forty-five minutes into the movie, he’d found his girlfriend, best friend… _partner_ … pressing urgent kisses to his jaw, her knees bracketing his thighs as she crawled into his lap.

All because he’d cupped the nape of her neck, let his thumb stroke over her skin, under the edge of her shirt.

(It’s something he’d noticed early on, the way she’d sigh in his ear, toss her head back roughly, as he drew a line down her spine.

Across the trail of freckles dusting her shoulder.)

“You know…” He lets his thumb follow the same path now as she stretches slowly in his arms. “If I had known touching your neck magically distracted you from Matt Damon I could have saved us both the pain of _The Brothers Grimm_.”

“It wasn’t that bad.” She grins up at him, her fingers dancing over his ribs.

“Besides, you like when I’m on top… especially if I happen to leave my heels on…”

“Happen to? I think I demanded it that night and paid the price.”

“Your calf was fine the next day.”

Laughing, he pushes up on his elbows, crushes his mouth to hers.

She sighs into him, her lips curving against his as she meets him stroke for stroke.

It’s everything from last night, but colored in the soft light of morning it somehow feels even more urgent.

Warmer and brighter and _oooh, so full of love_.

Wrapping his arms around her, he deepens the kiss, groans as he shifts on the couch.

“Mmm, come on…” She pulls away slowly, her palms smoothing down his chest before she catches his hand and tugs him from his seat. “I think we both could use a massage…”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From **effie214** : taking care of the other while sick

He pushes into her office and stops.

She’s bent over her desk, forehead pressed to the cool surface, half asleep.

“…is it?”

Her head lifts for a second and then, seeing it’s him, falls into the crook of her arm once more.

Dropping his things near the couch, he crosses to her, settles on the edge of her desk, his back to the door.

She sighs, eyes blinking wearily up at him as she pulls the blanket on her lap a little higher.

“I told you to stay home.”

“I had a meeting to run and a con—” She coughs suddenly, her cheeks flushing her otherwise pale face. “Conference call with Ray I couldn’t miss.”

Shaking his head he pushes off the desk and settles behind her.

This is an argument he’ll never win, is happy he won’t; her passion and drive are two of the things he loves most about her. Still…—he runs his hands up and down her arms, trying to warm her—he’d felt like shit all day yesterday.

Exhaling slowly, she leans back into the embrace for a long minute before crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t want employees saying I get special treatment.”

He rolls his eyes, rubs the back of her neck. “Please, I sent out a company wide memo months ago saying how business would run as usual, but that I’m not about to hear any complaints about either of us favoring our spouse.”

“You didn’t—”

“I had Thea write it; she’s more diplomatic.” Grinning, he kisses her temple. “Stay right here.”  

He’s gone all of five minutes, returning with a bright green drink that he sets in front of her on the desk.

It’s either a sign of how sick she is or how much she trusts him, but she takes a couple sips without further encouragement.

The taste quickly catches up though and she sputters, almost sending the straw flying into his face. “That’s vile. It better not be some crazy island—”

“Dearden family remedy; I know, it tastes like old socks.”

“Have you…” She takes another drink and grimaces. “Been rough housing with the dog again?”

Laughing, he snags the glass and carefully pulls her from her chair, across the office, and onto the couch. “I want to make sure you finish that and rest a little.” He fakes a cough, smirks, as she tucks her feet up under her and relaxes against him. “I think I might be relapsing; better answer my emails from here…”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **itsalwaysfour** asked for "adopting a pet together."

“Careful, boy.” His brow furrows as the puppy tugs on his sleeve before bounding over his lap and into Felicity’s. “I know I’d rather snuggle up with her, too, but remember who took you out at 3 a.m…”

“Please, you jumped out of bed just so I could warm you up when you came back in.”

He smirks, his arm falling over her shoulders. “You’re not wrong.”

Shaking her head, she laughs as the puppy jumps up and licks her cheek, his little body wiggling against her chest. “Thanks for kisses…” She bites her lip, turns in her seat to meet Oliver’s gaze, the teasing warmth she knows she’ll find there. “We really need to name him.”

We probably would have already if all your suggestions weren’t twelve syllables long.”

“Oliver is not twelve syllables.”

“I think that might get a little confusing.”

“Why?” She smiles, leaning against him. “You both like being petted…”

“Again, true, but…” He reaches out, patting the pup on the head as he stretches out between them. “I don’t want to be thinking of the dog when you’re in the middle of warming me up.”

“Fair enough, but Legolas and Gargamel are still—”

“What about Jeter?”

She tips her head towards him then looks down at the beagle-corgi mix snuggled between them,

He’s been a bundle of energy since they brought him home the previous morning, nipping at her heels, chasing balls…

It somehow seems right to name him after the player Oliver insisted she’d love to watch play.

(And she had.)

“Jeter it is.”

“Good, now just don’t tell him we’re Giants fans.”

“But…” Laughing, she laces her fingers through his, their joined hands falling to Jeter’s back. “I was going to see if they had a team collar for him the next time we went to a game…”   


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, "a sexy touch in a not necessarily sexy place" prompted by **lazyevening**.
> 
> I wasn’t sure if “a not necessarily sexy place” meant location or place on the body, but I think this sort of meets both :)

“How’s it going?” He leans against the door of the bathroom, watches her long, glorious legs move as she works under the sink.

Her response is muffled by the slow but steady stream of water, the insistent clang of tools, and he quickly crosses the room, crouches down next to her. Lightly grasping her ankle, he carefully tugs her forward.

She’s sweating, stray strands of hair plastered to her forehead, curling wildly around her ear as she feverishly wipes at her brow, lets her eyes drift closed for a long moment.

Scooting closer, he traces the arch of her foot, smiles as their gazes meet and despite the mess around them—the half full bucket, upended canisters of his protein shakes, piles of wet towels—something ignites.

All the exhaustion vanishes from her face and he feels like he always does in these moments.

The ones that catch them both off guard, make them shake their heads and smile softly later.

It’s like he’s invincible.

Unbelievably lucky.

Incredibly loved.

Cupping her foot, he strokes his thumb up the back of her leg, across the inside of her knee, and covers her mouth with his.

She grins against him, her hand twining through his hair, their tongues curling together, tasting and teasing.

Pulling away, she lets her forehead press to his, her hands dampening his skin as they slip under his shirt, seeking warmth.

“Well, I think…” Her fingers flex on his side, settle low on his back. “I fixed it, but we should really run the shower to be sure.”

“But it was my sink that seemed to be causing the leak.” She arches a brow at him, the corner of her mouth turning up as he quickly stands, pulling her with him. “Right, celebratory shower it is.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from **spyglass** _(513):You can't just snapchat me a picture of a pregnancy test and then not answer your phone._

His feet slide on the wood floor, his back one almost going completely out from under him as he tosses his jacket over the back of the couch, scans the room for his wife. 

After that text he was sure she’d have met him at the door, but no, she’s not there. 

Not in the dining room either. 

“Felicity?” Rubbing the back of his neck, he tries to shake out the energy coursing—vibrating—through him. It doesn’t work. “Felicity?!” 

No luck in their bedroom or the laundry room. 

He doesn’t even bother to check the wine closet. 

Finally, he lets out a rough breath, his voice on the verge of hoarseness as he leans against the door of their home office. 

She’s tucked under one of the desks, a ball of wires balanced in her lap, humming  _A Whole New World._

“What are you doing?!” He crosses his arms over his chest, fights to keep the grin off his face as her shoulders tense and then relax at the sound of his voice. 

“I’m… When did you…” 

“About ten minutes ago; you didn’t hear me call you?” 

“I was focused on trying to work through this maze.” She pulls at a laptop charger, tries to maneuver to other wires out from under it. 

“So that’s why you didn’t answer your phone either?” Pushing off the wall, he crosses the room, warm gaze drifting over her. “You can’t just snapchat me a pregnancy test and then not answer your phone. I mean…” Leaning down, he tugs her to her feet, practically throwing the tangle of cords into the next county as he pulls it from her grasp. “You put the app on my phone, bully me into using it, so I do, but I don’t know if I’m doing it right and—“

He stops, hand waving wildly as she smirks up at him. 

“You’re rambling.” 

“I… you didn’t answer the phone and I thought maybe I got the wrong message or was holding it upside down or—“

“Hey, breathe.” Leaning back against the desk, she tips her head towards him. “If you’re this worked up now, I don’t even want to think about how you’re going to be in the delivery room.” 

There’s silence for a long moment and then he’s closing the slight distance between them, his face buried in her neck as he runs his hands all over her, breathes her in. 

“So I was right? We’re… You’re…” 

She just nods in response, unable to stop feeling him. 

This moment. 

The wild joy floating around them. 

“In late August, if I’m doing the calculations right; Doctor Brody will be able to tell us more exactly when we go for the appointment next week.” 

“August is perfect.” Cupping her face, he kisses her softly. “Congratulations, Mom.” 

“Mmm, same, Dad.” Her nails scrape over the nape of his neck before she turns in his arms, her back pressing to his chest. “How about our first family selfie?”

“Ok, but I get to put it on instagram when the time comes; that I can handle.” 

Laughing, she holds her phone out, aiming the camera low as their fingers tangle together on her waist. 

(His first instagram is posted two and a half months later. 

 _First Family Photo_ is the only caption.) 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From **itsalwaysfour** : _(708):Omg I literally just wanna sleep with you right now. Like actual sleep. Not sex. Well maybe. But sleep first._

Dropping her heels at the end of their bed, she pulls her hair free, leans back against the dresser. 

“We survived.” 

“We did.” He falls on to the mattress, kicking his shoes off as he relaxes back against the headboard, his suspenders slipping off one shoulder. “You were brilliant and wonderful and, as I predicted, they loved you.” 

“They did. Oliver Queen’s girlfriend got the same respect and attention as Oliver Queen’s IT genius and applied science master.” 

“They are one in the same.” He rolls up his sleeves, smiles their gazes meet. “I mean you’re my partner. Period. It’s just the first official event you’ve been introduced as—“ 

“Which is why I was nervous.” Stepping out of her dress, she wraps her robe around her, grinning as she hears a strangled cry from the other side of the room. “I don’t know that you noticed. No…” She slips her bracelets off, crosses to the end of the bed. ”Of course you did; why else would the catering staff be pouring a Lemberger?” 

“Good taste?” He smirks. 

“Something like that.” Leaning back on her elbows, she lets her eyes drift over him. “It was just a lot at once: announcing the new deal with Palmer Technologies, hosting a silent auction, making small talk with a hundred people while trying not to drop a crab puff or spill my very delicious wine on them. Because, I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time. At least, it was white wine last time and it was just Thea’s shoes… Did we ever buy her a new pair?” 

“Felicity.” Reaching out, he cups her foot, drags his thumb along her heel. 

“They were great shoes! I would have borrowed them except… wine…” 

Shaking his head, he picks up his phone, types out a quick text. “There, message sent for her to pick out two new pairs of shoes—one to replace those and one for you to ‘borrow’—and to do so through one of our online accounts.” 

“Ok.” She smiles as he slides off his other suspender, pulls his shirt loose from his pants, and scoots down the bed. “Damn, I really just want to sleep with you right now. Like actual eyes closed, elbow in your side, dead to the world sleep. Not sex. Well…” She follows the line of his shoulders to the loosened buttons of his dress shirt. “Maybe. But legitimate sleep first.” 

Chuckling, he catches her hand, tugs her up to him. “Sounds like a plan to me.”  

“A plan? Are you setting an alarm?” 

“Maybe.” He clicks off the light, pulls the belt of her robe tighter as she settles against him. 

“Maybe?” 

“Definitely.” 

“Good.” Tangling her legs with his, she lets her eyes slip shut, the steady rise and fall of his chest under her cheek, the warmth of his hand on the back of her neck, relaxing her completely. 

“No, not good…” His other arms is pinned between them, already getting prickly and numb, but—he presses a kiss to her temple, closes his eyes—it doesn’t even matter. “The best.” 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And from **lazyevening** : _Because I can imagine a hooded Oliver feeling a little frisky... (408): sex on the roof is not as easy as it sounds._

The adrenaline is still pumping through him as their feet land on the roof, his bow clattering to the ground. 

“That was—“ 

“Don’t say it.” She shoves his shoulder, lets her forehead fall to his chest. 

“What? Exciting? Crazy?” Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he smiles down at her. “Perfect?” 

“Yeah, any of those.” 

“Too late.” 

Sighing, she glances down at her tablet, checks the diagnostics streaming through. “Well, you did beat your old time, even after I purposely argued with you before the zip line…” 

“It’s a combination of the new arrows and knowing even in an obstacle course you have my back.” His lips brush across her forehead before he turns, waving Digg back. “We’ll go over the efficiency report in the morning; go home to your kids.” 

The “thanks, man” gets lost in the air between the buildings, but Oliver feels it anyhow. 

It’s only amplified by the woman still pressed to his body, her hair whipping in the early morning breeze, teeth cutting into her lower lip as she studies the information scrolling in front of her. 

“Ok…” Shaking his head, he runs his hand down her arm, snags the tablet and tucks it in the corner with his bow. “That’s enough of that.” 

“But, but…” She leans around him, squinting at the screen just before it locks. “I wanted to see the numbers focused on your negotiation technique and the server hack.” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Technically, it  _is_ tomorr—“ 

The rest of the word is lost in his mouth as he frames her face, aligns them head to toe once more, and makes the world spin. 

She quickly retaliates, her tongue flicking hungrily against his as her hands sweep over his shoulders, down his back, settling low on his hips. 

“Shit, Felic—“ He groans, fingers fumbling with the buttons of her coat as he pushes her against the wall. 

“Hmm?” She hums it along his throat, lips curving against his skin as he pushes the jacket off and rocks against her. 

“Too smart and sexy and…” Gritting his teeth, he pushes up her skirt, caresses the outside of her thigh. “So many layers… I fucking hit the jackpot.” 

Her head falls back in laughter, eyes drifting shut as he lifts her leg over his hip. “I don’t know, I think…” She sighs, one hand loosening the ties of his leathers as the other cups the back of his neck, pulls him close. “We both… ohhh… both picked the right time to cash in our chips…” 

“Yessss.” 

His mouth crashes over hers again and it’s everything. 

Understanding and contentment and promise.

Teeth tugging at his lower lip, she trails her palm down his chest, roughly pushes his pants as far off as she can. 

It’s not as far as she’d like though and he grins at the frustrated growl she exhales into the night. 

“Damn things are too tight.” 

“You didn’t seem to mind last—“ 

“That was different.” 

“Mhmm.” Stepping back, he kicks off the pants, leans into her once more. “I’ll make note of it for the future.” 

“Make sure you do.” Smiling, she trails kisses along his jaw, scrapes her teeth over  _that_ spot just above his collarbone. 

He jolts in her arms, heart pounding as he lifts her higher on the wall, pushes her panties to the side and—

“DAMN IT.” 

“Are you ok?” Her fingers flex on his side, eyes clouding with concern. 

“Forgot…” He inhales slowly, tests the leg that just slammed into the brick wall. “The knee was still healing… just…” Shaking his head, he cups her hip, draws a soft circle over her skin, and slides home. “Didn’t think sex on the roof would be this hard.” 

“Hard is good.” 

“Felicity….” He’s laughing, chest vibrating against hers as he begins to move. 

“Just telling the… oh that’s… yes…” 

She’s all around him then, knees tightening at his sides, arms falling across his shoulders as her back arches, hips raise to meet his over and over. 

Moaning, she lifts her leg higher on his waist, presses her heel into the small of his back, urging him closer. 

“Shit, ‘Licity, I’m not gonna…” 

“Me… either…” She tightens around him, nails biting into his skin as their pace increases. “So good, just… yesssss.” 

“Yeah, that’s it…” Brushing his thumb down the column of her throat, he bows his head, lets his lips follow the trail. “Just like…” 

“Yes, fucking amazing…” Her head falls back, breath hitching as his rhythm falters and then he’s rocking into her hard, mouth bruising her skin as he drives her higher and higher and higher. “I’m—“

It’s too much, the heat sweeps over her and she comes, chanting his name, hands fisting in his hair. 

Grunting, he returns once, twice, more and falls after her. 

“Well…” Smiling, she lowers her legs, smooths her skirt as he struggles back into his pants. “I guess I know what to motivate you with the next time we run this efficiency course.” 

“Mmm…” He picks up his bow, tucks her tablet under his arm, and pulls her close. “You’re all the motivation I ever need.” 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by **effie214** : _(267): Drank your wedding present. Sorry._

“How many more guests can there be?” His breath feathers over her shoulder as he slips his arm around her waist. “You’d swear my sister ran one of the most successful youth programs in the state or something.” 

“Try country.” His wife smooths her bridesmaid’s dress, leans back against him even as she shakes hands with the never-ending stream of wedding guests. 

“Really? Must be all the virtual promotion they do.” 

“I did come with a pretty brilliant campaign, but Thea was the one who created a program diverse enough to attract a lot of interest and yet still made all the components feel related to one another. Important.” She lifts an eyebrow at him before giving Sin a quick hug as she moves through the line. “And it’s not just that, your sister felt the need to invite most of the extended family we excluded from our wedding.” 

“Making up for our shortcomings, I see.” 

“Try  _your_ shortcomings.” Her elbow jabs his side and he can’t help but grin at the warmth and laughter lingering in her voice. “What are you doing on the bride’s side of the receiving line anyhow? Aren’t you supposed to be sandwiched between Greg and Derek?” 

“Technically I do belong to the bride’s side…” 

“Mhmm.” She laughs as the last of the guest make their way past and he pulls her into a nearby chair while the photograph orders Thea and Roy into place for more pictures.

“Through blood and marriage.” His jaw scrapes along her shoulder, settles against her collarbone. 

“Not sure how that works since  _I’m_ the one that married into the family.”

“Thank god, I’m still waiting for you to regret that.” Grinning, he brushes one hand down her arm.

“Never.” She kicks off her shoes, turns slightly on his lap, mouth curving up as their eyes meet. 

Everything spins then and even as she realizes what he meant—that in this particular case  _she’s_  the link to his sister, the one Thea chose to stand by her when she could have easily flouted tradition and chosen him as her maid-of-honor—she can’t quite believe it. 

That somehow they ended up here. 

Friends. 

Partners. 

A family. 

“Hey, you ok?” His thumb strokes over the curve of her wrist, traces over her palm before settling against the bands of her rings. 

“Yeah, just…” She flexes her hand in his, leans closer. “Really, really happy.” 

“Happy is good.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve trying to see who can do the most one-handed push-ups during the reception, yes it is.”

“Hey, you were the one who suggested you could handle the salmon ladder in your gown.” Pressing a kiss to her jaw, he tightens his arms around her waist, pulls her closer. “Since there wasn’t one readily available at the vineyard, push-ups were obvious—“ 

“While wearing boas?” 

“That was all Digg! Just because I made him do karaoke at his reception—” 

“Remind me not to let him anywhere near your birthday party.” 

“—despite the push-up contest, our wedding was pretty awesome.” 

“It was perfect. A short ceremony, only our closest friends, great wine, and…” Twisting his tie between her fingers, she tugs him down for a slow, warm kiss. “And us… Yeah, that’s pretty awesome.” 

“Speaking of wine, do you think Thea and Roy are going to notice the bottle we promised for the head table is missing?” 

“If you say it that loud, they are.” 

“Maybe I should say something ahead of time.” 

“Like what?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe ‘Sorry, Speedy, we drank your wedding present three months ago and didn’t realize it.’” 

“You might as well just write  _we love outdoor picnics, red wine, and licking it off each other_  across your forehead.” 

“I don’t think it would fit.” 

Shaking her head, she presses her palm to his chest. “No, but she’d get the idea. Probably better just to see if they notice and promise a whole case of it, either way.” 

“That means we’ll have to go back to Spain.” 

“Yes, it does.” She turns back towards the bride and groom then, head falling back against his chest as she laces their fingers together. “But first we celebrate with your sister and new brother-in-law.” 

“They won’t need us for another half hour; want to open the Syrah I snuck into the limo?” 

Laughing softly, she stands, tugging him to his feet before leaning close. “Race you there.” 

(She’s already out the door, pushing through the lingering guests as he nods in agreement and grabs her clutch. 

Yes, life is awesome.) 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another TFLN prompt, this one from an anon, _"Drunk me just left a note for sober me apologizing for all the fucking crumbs in our bed"_

*thud* 

*screeeeeeeech* 

*ping*

“What…” She leans out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, robe slipping off one shoulder. “Are you doing?” 

“Rearranging our bedroom?” 

He says it so earnestly, dimples appearing, a tinge of pink sweeping across his jaw, that she almost forgets that it’s going on three a.m. and they’ve had a long night. 

(And for once that has nothing to do with bows or hacking and everything to do with the surprise birthday party she planned for him. 

Funny how ten people can feel like a room full when given the right event and the perfect wine. 

Or in her husband’s case, bourbon.) 

“…a little more zen if we put the bookcase under the window and move your chair to the opposite wall.” 

“Please tell me you’re not debating the merits of feng shui right now.” 

“No, that would require reconfiguring every room in the house and…” He stops, shrugging before falling back onto the bed and tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Thanks again for tonight.” 

“For the surprise or—“ 

“Everything.” 

“It was pretty easy once I got ahold of your calendar.” 

She scoots back into the bathroom for a minute and returns, wash cloth in hand, to find him rocking back and forth on the mattress, pen tapping idly against the headboard. 

She’s not sure she ever would have guessed inebriated Oliver Queen to be fidgety, but he is. 

Fidgety, prone to flights of fancy, and ridiculously charming. 

(And hers. 

He’s always hers.)

“You’re a calendar thief!” He grins, shifting again, his shirt riding high on his toned stomach. “It’s ok though, if anyone is allowed to steal my days it’s you. Hell, you can have my nights, too. Afternoons. Obviously holidays… Though sometimes I’d like to steal one of your holidays; I swear I’m not going to burn a single latke next year.” The pen he’s holding twirls in the air, drops to the bedside table. “Oh, yeah, the note…” 

“What note?” Lifting an eyebrow, she runs the warm cloth over her face. 

“The one drunk me just left apologizing to sober me and you, though you’re sober now, but… Anyhow, it’s an apology for all the fucking crumbs in our bed.” 

“So, what you’re saying is, I’m going to be reenacting  _The Princess and the Pea_  tonight?” 

“Only if I get to…” 

The rest of the sentence is lost as he looks up and discovers her wiping away the remnants of her lipstick. There’s a little still caught in the corner of her mouth and he has the irresistible urge to smudge it off.

“Get to what?” Tossing the wash cloth in the sink, she pulls her hair free, only to be stopped by his hand on her wrist, his mouth pressing gently to her jaw… cheek… lips… 

“To decide where we spend the night.” Curving his fingers through hers, he brushes a kiss across her forehead, starts to lead her out into the house. “How about camping out under one of the skylights?” 

“Ok.” She sighs, leaning against him as they circle the kitchen. “But no apologies if you end up being my pillow.” 

“Mmm, no problem.” Settling on the couch, he pulls her down with him, his knee pressing to her thigh as they stare up at the stars. “Happy birthday to me.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt from **effie214** : _(847) He literally didn't stop until I lost count of how many times he made me orgasm. It took three hours._ Thanks to **itsalwaysfour** for the read through.

“So…” Iris slides a coffee cup across the table, waves as their last customer slips out into the night. “How was Switzerland?” 

Felicity takes a small sip of her drink, smiles as she realizes her friend completely disregarded her order and instead gave her the macchiato she’d been craving. “It was… nice…” 

“Nice? That’s all you can say, nice?” Shaking her head, she pushes back from the table. “You went on a two week trip to Switzerland with  _Oliver fucking Queen_ in celebration of your engagement and the only description you can come up with is ‘nice’?!” 

“It covers a lot of bases.” 

She snorts, her dark hair falling over her shoulder as she rests her arms on the table. “I’m sure it does.” 

“I guess I could probably say wonderful or perfect or…” 

“Yeah, yeah, you guys are ridiculously happy, give me something to work with here. Did you ski? Go on any bank heists? Eat enough chocolate to make Willy Wonka jealous?” 

“There was skiing and… some chocolate…  Mostly we really enjoyed exploring the cities, all the different lakes, without having to worry about some crazy megalomaniac interrupt—“ 

“Wait, what do you mean  _some_ chocolate?” She narrows her eyes over the top of her mug. “Did you or did you not bring me back a chocolate sampler weighing as much as the expresso machine?” 

Laughing, Felicity pulls a small tin from her purse. “It doesn’t weigh quite that much, but yes. I also have some wine for you, but I didn’t want to drag it here and then make you lug it home; I’ll bring it when I pick you up for the art show this weekend.” 

“I’ll have the corkscrew ready.” 

“Good.” The blond sets her cup down, sighs as she leans back into her seat. “You can save the two other bottles for whenever you want, but we  _have_ to share this pinot noir I got. I mean, I had half a case sent back for me, but it’s really one that’s better when you drink it with some chocolate and a friend. Of course, the customs papers were a pain in the ass to fill out and you wouldn’t believe some of the questions they ask, I thought they were going to check on what color underwear I had on—“ 

“Purple?” 

“No, just because I took the set you gave me on the trip doesn’t mean I wore them on the flight.” She grins, lets her fingers tap along the top of the table. “Anyhow, the wine and you are more than worth it, but next time I’m just going to let customs try their luck with Oliver.” 

“Oh, I can see how that’s going to end now.” 

“Stop writing the headline in your head.” 

“Occupational hazard.” Grinning, she nudges her friend’s arm. “Besides the wine and the lakes, what was the best part? I’m trying to convince Barry we need to go somewhere for his birthday…” 

“Can I say that it was just the two of us and nothing else?” 

“No.” Iris laughs, the sound echoing through the empty shop. 

“Fine. I think it was probably the third or fourth night—we were finally adjusted to the time change and I’d finally started carrying the back-up battery for my camera with me—we went to this folk dinner. They serve you all sorts of regional foods and there’s a show with music and…” Her lips press together, eyes close for a short moment as she debates how much to say. “I was forced to yodel. In front of people.” 

“Tell me there’s video.” 

“I made Oliver promise not to show it to anyone other than our future children; I’ll let you see the pictures though.” There’s another short pause as she finishes her drink. “Anyhow, it was kind of late and as we were walking back to the hotel, more than one shop owner stopped us to say congratulations; they apparently thought we were already married and on our honeymoon and… and it just felt right. Like it’s already almost true and…” Fingers flexing on the edge of the table, she sighs. “Oliver couldn’t seem to keep his hands off me after that and when we got back to the room, ohmygod… it was like we hadn’t touched each other in months. Seriously, he didn’t stop until I lost count of how many times he made me orgasm. It took three hours.”

“Ok, Switzerland is definitely going on the list. Right after Paris and Kauaʻi.” 

“You can’t bring me wine or chocolate from Kauaʻi.” 

“No, but I’d definitely get lei’d and I could bring you back some exciting volcano rock or something.” She laughs as Felicity groans at the pun then twists in her chair to check the time. “But that’s for the future, tell me more about the skiing.” 

“I was afraid the slopes were going to be too hard since I don’t have much exper—“ Her phone vibrates and a soft smile lights her face as she quickly types a reply to her aforementioned fiancé, her thumb twirling the ring on her left hand. “Apparently, I need to stop and get bread if I want the dinner I was promised. Ohhh, the bread for fondue at the one ski lodge we went to was amazing…” 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another prompt from **itsalwaysfour** : _(214):Sex on bubble wrap = best decision ever._

“Here…” He tips the small end table towards himself, tugs the bubble wrap from under the leg, and passes it to his wife, who’s crouched next to him on the floor. 

Turning from the lamp she’s trying to free, she takes the sheet, smooths it on the floor next to the pile of smaller pieces she’s amassed as they attempt to organize the room. 

“I’m not going to need to crumple up newspaper to send gifts home for Hanukkah for at least two years.” 

“Two? Try four or five.” He pulls another piece off, grins as she twists it between her hands, her eyes narrowing slightly. 

“See, it’s economical and resourceful, not—“

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.” Sliding the table into place, he turns back to her. “I just had never heard of saving the packaging to torture family members with at the holidays.” 

“Of course you hadn’t.” There’s no judgment in the words, her mouth curving up as she rubs her back. “And just because I wrapped your jersey in four boxes with bubble wrap  _and_ peanuts doesn’t mean everyone gets to be tortured.” 

“Just those closest to you?” He smirks, gaze drifting to the empty boxes in the doorway before settling on her once more. 

“Closest and clumsiest.” Clenching her teeth, she finally uncovers the base of the lamp. “Ok, maybe not clumsiest, but…” She blows out a breath, tosses the bubble wrap over her shoulder. “If you break another handle off a coffee mug I might put protective wrapping on them permanently.” 

“That last one wasn’t my fault, Lyla and Digg…“ 

The rest of the sentence dies as she tips her head towards him, the packaging she just tossed behind her catching in her low ponytail. 

It’s hilarious and warm and…

Completely her. 

The way she puts one hundred percent into everything, pushes him to see the fun in small things like sneaking M & Ms into the movies or counting stars from the porch. 

To see the fun in everything. 

God, he fucking loves her. 

Leaning forward, he quickly closes the space between them, his fingers pulling the wrapping free as he eases her back, pins her to the pile she’s so carefully constructed. 

“Oliver, what… oh…” Sighing, she lets her fingers drift down his back, pull at the hem of his shirt as he sucks at her collarbone and the first of the wrapping pops beneath his knee. 

Her palm presses to the small of his back and he groans, forehead falling to hers as his hands cup her hips, push at the waistband of her pants. 

“Did you…” Pulling away slightly, he lifts an eyebrow, smooths the grey material against her leg. “Glue these on?”

Grinning, she just shakes her head, knee pressing to his side as the laughter bounces between them and it becomes a rush to see who can undress the other first. 

“I win.” She falls back, pulling him with her as he finally tosses her bra behind them. 

“Mmmm, I think we’re both…” Slowly tracing the curve of her spine, he presses closer, covers her mouth with his. “Winners.” 

“Yesssss.” She sighs it against him, fingers twisting in his hair as his tongue strokes roughly over hers and he slides home. “Ohhh, yes.” 

His chest vibrates against hers in laughter. 

Approval. 

Happiness. 

And then he’s moving, slowly rocking into her as her teeth pull at his bottom lip, scrape over his jaw. 

Pushing up on her elbows, she moans as the wrapping gives way against her skin in random bursts, sending a puffs of cool air over her even as his mouth slips along her collarbone, down the slope of her breast, ratcheting the heat higher. 

“Taste… so…” His thumb circles her nipple, brushes across her in counterpoint to the tempo he’s setting below. “Damn…” He grunts, eyes slamming shut as he plants openmouthed kisses up the column of her throat. “So damn good.” 

“Hmmm, just good?” She lets her arms fall across his shoulders, fingers skating over the nape of his neck. 

“Fucking delicious.” His lips press to hers again, fingers digging into her hip as she hooks her leg higher on his waist, urging him closer. 

It’s something he can never resist and he presses his hand flat on the ground, smiles against her as her breath hitches at the slight shift in position. 

“Oh shit, that’s…” 

“…know… come on, ‘Licity, come…” His jaw clenches as his hand slips on the bubble wrap, altering his rhythm and they both laugh as he growls against her jaw, fists the damn packaging, and rocks into her harder. 

Sighing, she meets him stroke for stroke, hips pressing to his as they move faster and faster and faster. 

“Yes, Oliver, I’m… yesyesyes…” Her nails bite into his bicep, left foot kicks out, knocking over the lamp she so carefully unwrapped as her orgasm crashes over her. 

Grinning, he sweeps a strand of her from her cheek, runs his thumb across her lower lip, and falls after her. 

“Well…” She exhales slowly, taps her fingers down his side before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah, that…” Shaking his head, he reluctantly leaves her heat, arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close, he falls to the floor next to her. “That was one of our better ideas.” 

“Definitely better than the great wax experiment.” 

“It took a week and a half to get it out of my hair…” 

“You practically have a shaved head already. I don’t know why you wouldn’t…” Turning into his embrace, she shakes her head, sighs against him. “It doesn’t matter, this…” She reaches behind them and pops an untouched bubble. “Was fun and amazing and… perfect…”

"Mmm, so is…” His hand skates down her body, splays over her warm skin. “This.”

Lifting her head from his chest, she glances over his shoulder at the upended Pooh lamp, the newly set-up crib.

Her ‘yes’ is caught in their lips meeting once more and the flex of his fingers low on her stomach. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last of this round of tfln prompts is another from **effie214** : _(732): I tried to put my heels in the coat check._
> 
> Much love to **itsalwaysfour** for the read through.

Smoothing the wayward strap of her dress, she scans the room for him, thumb rubbing against the back of her earrings. He knows the exact minute she spots him—it doesn’t take long; the antechamber is fairly empty now—purely from the arch of her neck, the slight hitch in smile. 

Quickly, she crosses the space between them, teeth worrying her lower lip. 

“What are you doing?” 

It’s soft and low in his ear, but it still seems to echo through the room. 

Through him.

“Waiting for you?” 

“We’re… You should have…” She shakes her head, inhales slowly as her gaze drifts over him. He’s entirely too relaxed, feet crossed at the ankles, shoulder resting against one of the tall columns floating in the room. It’s simultaneously reassuring and frustrating. 

As though the promise of the night’s the same no matter where they are. 

“…couldn’t make an entrance without my wife; I need some protection from Mrs. Smith-Kinney.” 

She knows he says it just to relax her, but it doesn’t matter. She can feel her shoulders loosen, her mouth turning up. “I should have worn my stilettos then.” 

Ducking his head, he smirks. “Maybe later.” 

“Ok, but speaking of late…” 

“Fifteen minutes isn’t going to kill us and…” He gestures to other couples still climbing the art museum steps. “We’re not alone.” 

“Still, we’re one of the main sponsors and… I hate being late. It was bad enough that I didn’t want to leave Lily so soon after her cold cleared up, but then she didn’t want us to go and I almost got lipstick all over your coat in the car—“

“There are more fun ways of doing that than dropping the whole tube on my sleeve—“ 

“—And I just tried to put my heels in the coat check.” 

“Ok, look…” Catching her hand, he tugs her down a short hall into a closed exhibit the catering staff has commandeered and, currently, abandoned. “Lily will be fine. She was already starting a Lego tower with Aunt Thea when I closed the door.” 

“Yeah, Thea texted that they’d found a boa to use for a moat. It’s just all…” 

“I know.” He sits on the edge of a prep table, wraps his arms around her waist, and tugs her close. “You want to call? Make sure that they stopped to eat and that our wily daughter had her medicine? We should probably have Thea check to make sure she doesn’t have a fever again; she felt a little warm when she kissed me goodnight.” 

“She did look a little flushed; I assumed it was from racing you down the hallway while I got ready.” Sighing, she lets her head fall to his chest, her hand slipping inside his coat to press against his hip before rooting in his pocket for his phone. “You… Our number’s already up…” 

“I know you.” His fingers stroke over her back, up her spine. “Us.” 

“Yes.” She rocks up on her toes, thumb tracing his jaw as she kisses him softly. “Thank you.”

“Mmm, of course. Now hit send so we can go have some of those crab appetizers you picked.” 

Laughing, she does so, her free hand slipping into his as she relaxes against him once more. “Hey, Lily, it’s Mom…” 


End file.
